Chapter 120: Now It Was Firefly City’s Turn
Just moments earlier.
Having concluded the briefing, Yves followed Mo Zeya to the bedside of the Firefly City sentry who had just regained consciousness.
This was the courier who had suffered comparatively lighter wounds.
Upon coming around, the Firefly City soldier wore a completely dazed expression, as if unable to comprehend his current reality.
It was baffling, really. The mutated monstrosities along the wilderness route had been terrifyingly formidable; the two of them had only made it from Firefly City’s outskirts to Seed City thanks to their comrades’ covering fire and desperate, bloody sacrifice.
Prior to reaching Seed City, both of them had fully prepared to lay down their lives carving a bloody path through a beast surge. Once the rainy season broke, the mutant flora and fauna, emboldened by sudden power spikes, invariably designated nearby frontier settlements as their primary targets.
It was true for Firefly City, and it was bound to be true for Seed City as well.
Yet Seed City’s perimeter was baffling: the closer they drew to the soaring ramparts… the sparser the mutants became?
Back then, racked with severe wounds, drained from catastrophic blood loss, and utterly spent, they had no choice but to push forward, regardless of what disaster might have befell Seed City.
He couldn’t recall the exact sequence of events, only that just before blacking out, familiar black combat fatigues had swam into view.
After verifying the sentry’s credentials, he had mustered the very last dregs of his strength to pull Colonel Wen Lin’s emergency dispatch from his breast pocket and pass it over.
That was the solemn duty entrusted to all four dispatch teams.
He had never expected to open his eyes again.
Catching sight of Yves wearing colonel insignia right before him, the Firefly City sentry’s heavy eyelids fluttered shut once more.
Then he blinked them open again.
…Why is he still standing here?
“What is the exact situation in Firefly City?”
He heard the commander inquire.
“Reporting, sir. By the time we departed to seek reinforcements, our settlement’s interior was already in utter ruins.”
Faced with a superior’s direct inquiry, the sentry Ge Yu’s disciplined instincts overrode his bewilderment, and he delivered his report in a ragged, hoarse rasp.
“The rainy season descended prematurely. The garrison enacted emergency protocols, locking the main gates, sealing the outer ramparts, and rationing grain from strategic reserves.” He swallowed with immense effort, a searing pain tearing through his throat. “The reservoir was corrupted. The viral contagion and pestilence carried by the insect hordes have run rampant across the civilian quarters. Concurrently, a full-scale beast surge descended and commenced its assault on the perimeter.”
It matched Colonel Wen Lin’s written words almost verbatim.
“Were there not four separate details dispatched to carry word to Seed City? Do you hold any coordinates for the others who have yet to arrive? I can deploy rescue parties to extract them.”
“…Commander, there is no need for extraction. We two are the sole survivors.”
Yves paused, solemnity darkening his features. “You have fought honorably.”
“…”
“You engaged mutant beasts en route? Your frame bears bite lacerations, abrasions, puncture wounds, strangulation trauma, and advanced toxic necrosis. Were there any anomalous behaviors or traits requiring special tactical vigilance?”
“…Pardon?”
Ge Yu blinked, failing to grasp the intent. Special tactical vigilance? Aren’t the very horrors that carved dozens of mortal wounds into us worthy of paramount vigilance already?
“Understood. That will suffice.”
Observing his response, Yves nodded calmly. “Focus on resting and recovering.”
“…Commander, am I… truly alive?”
“Without a doubt.” Yves rose to his feet, offering a faint, reassuring smile. “You have safely reached Seed City.”
“How… why am I, uh, shouldn’t I be dead?”
Ge Yu was utterly confounded.
Setting aside the horrific trauma gouged into his flesh before reaching the gates, the creeping toxic corruption alone… He knew with absolute certainty that by the time Seed City’s silhouettes appeared on the horizon, he was running on borrowed seconds at the absolute end of his tether.
Seed City’s commander offered no elaborate explanation. Having gathered the necessary intelligence, he rendered a crisp military salute, turned on his heel, and strode out of the infirmary with his entourage.
“…”
Ge Yu tentatively touched his lower abdomen.
There had been a devastating impalement wound there; the majority of his life-threatening blood loss had poured from that very tear.
Yet beneath the clean bandages, the degree of accelerated tissue regeneration was completely unnatural.
Wait.
Fragmented memories surfaced through the haze. Ge Yu vaguely recalled that in the twilight between life and death, a figure had sat beside his cot, hovering an open palm over his ravaged midsection.
A soothing, warm brilliance had emanated from those fingers.
It felt unmistakably like an Awakener’s ability.
Yet… how could a frontier outpost like Seed City harbor its own Awakeners?
“Time for your medicine.”
While Ge Yu racked his aching head for answers, a physician approached, holding a ceramic bowl.
He peered at the contents within.
“What is… this?”
“Detoxifying Sweet Potato Purée Broth.”
Ge Yu: “?”
…What on earth is that supposed to be?
The Chinese Restaurant.
Ling Jing looked at Yves, who had arrived flanked by an armed escort of city guards, confirming his request: “You are saying that on top of your standing catering order, you wish to buy out the restaurant’s entire existing inventory?”
“That is correct.” Yves nodded firmly.
“Excluding your reserved order, our current stock stands at 296 roasted potatoes, 144 roasted sweet potatoes, 6 portions of big-pot stew, 38 jars of pickled white radishes, 15 bowls of rice porridge, 23 bags of sugar-roasted chestnuts, 17 ears of boiled corn, and for the Malatang skewers…”
Ling Jing gestured for Caicai to run a rapid audit, continuing, “760 skewers. We carry very little surplus for made-to-order stir-fries, leaving only two orders of Tomato and Beef Brisket Stew. As for the braised items… roughly 10 portions of braised pork, 20 portions of braised offal, 8 portions of braised vegetables… plus the mutton soups… and the hot herbal teas…”
She rattled off a concise inventory of the dining hall.
The beverage barrels were restocked rapidly and sat virtually brim-full. The three signature broths had been steadily simmered by Fufu throughout the day, leaving ample reserves.
Yves did not hesitate for a second: “We will take every last portion.”
“Very well.”
“Boss Ling, would it be possible to rush another batch of roasted sweet potatoes and roasted potatoes? We are prepared to pay double.”
With a client showing such sincerity and willingness to spend, Ling Jing had zero reason to turn down good revenue.
“I can do that.”
“How long will it require?”
“Twenty minutes will yield an extra 156 roasted potatoes and 60 roasted sweet potatoes.”
“Excellent. Consider them purchased.”
Reading the subtle urgency in Yves’s posture, Ling Jing, ever attuned to customer needs, offered tentatively, “Within that same window, the automated equipment can also turn out a fresh vat of boiled corn, a full batch of sugar-roasted chestnuts, and a pot of rice porridge. Would you like those included as well?”
The automated stations produced them seamlessly anyway, so she might as well bundle them into the sale.
“Is that truly possible? We would be immensely grateful.” A flash of pleasant surprise crossed Yves’s eyes.
“Think nothing of it. The total comes to…” Tapping her console, Ling Jing swiftly tallied the figures: “8,912 City Coins.”
“Adding your original catering balance, the grand total is 13,021 City Coins.”
“Keith, settle the payment.”
Hearing the exorbitant sum, Yves didn’t even bat an eye, barking the order instantly.
“Yes, sir.”
Ling Jing: Whoa.
The administration was throwing around staggering sums today.
Yves’s detachment had already handed over a handsome sum of points earlier this morning.
Come evening, his generosity only grew more lavish.
“Thank you for your patronage. I’ll round down the change for you—13,000 even will do,” Ling Jing offered smoothly.
After all, one had to treat high-volume, reliable corporate clients well.
“Boss Ling is far too modest. It is we who owe you our deepest gratitude.”
Yves replied with absolute solemnity.
There was not a shred of empty flattery in his tone; it came straight from the heart.
The relief column designated to extract Firefly City was mustering at the East Gate this very second.
How many lives could be dragged back from the brink of oblivion depended entirely on the volume of life-saving provisions packed into their transports.
The Chinese Restaurant had preserved Seed City.
Now, it was Firefly City’s turn.
